


Night Time Sharpens

by DoreyG



Category: Batman Beyond
Genre: Age Difference, Chair Sex, Community: comment_fic, M/M, They're Both Fucked Up and it Works, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 16:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4572318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And the pale of Terry's skin vanishing into the shadow feels like an obscenity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Time Sharpens

It always happens after patrol. And he knows how it is, knows how it feels after a long night of having to hold back every single impulse, and so he allows it. Allows Terry to slink into the cave, all delicate grace and tiger strength. Allows him to strip off the suit, fabric pulling so smoothly over muscled flesh. _Allows_ him to clamber into his lap, and take and take and _take_.

He should probably feel worse about it.

Should _definitely_ feel worse about it. Because he's done this before, of course, but it's never felt quite as sinful as _this_. Because Terry is seventeen, and he is a wrinkled up old man so very close to burning out entirely. Because Terry is still an innocent, and he lost that more than a lifetime ago. Because Terry is _bright_ , and he is dark and the cave is dark and the pale of Terry's skin vanishing into the shadow feels like an obscenity.

But.

But Terry chooses to come to him, even when he should be running in the other direction as fast as he can go. He clambers into his lap, so delicately that he feels like he could snap the boy with but a twitch of his wrist, and smirks and purrs and _asks_. Asks for his touch, deliberately guiding his hands up over the planes of a flat stomach. Asks for the darkness, arching back into the shadows with an abandon that he hasn't seen in years. Asks for _him_ , and writhes and moans and _exists_ until he has no other option but to give in.

"You think too much, old man," Terry huffs, pressing a teasing kiss into his neck as he slumps into a sated pile.

And perhaps he does. And perhaps he really should feel worse, but with Terry sprawling - so peaceful and _alive_ \- in his arms, he finds that he can't quite summon the energy to try.


End file.
